The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Royal Navy
by Demus
Summary: HHGxHornblower crossover, with explanation of the latter fandom. When a strange white shape crashes in the ocean next to Lt Hornblower's ship, he is unsure what to make of it, or its two bizarre occupants. Rated for slash and some cussing. FPxAD and HHxAK
1. What the?

This is a Hitchhiker's Guide/Hornblower crossover, written by two slashers. The authors are **Les Lapins Mauvais** and **Demus**. All credit to Les Lapins Mauvais for the original idea and development of that idea. Also, the title is hers. It's on my account because she is, alas, going on holiday and wouldn't be able to post it on hers.

For those who don't know, 'Hornblower' was a series of books (made into a TV series) about a young officer in the Royal Navy in the eighteenth century during the war with France. His name is Horatio Hornblower, from the TV adaptation his best friend is called Archie Kennedy and his captain is called Captain Sir Edward Pellew. Unsurprisingly, a popular Hornblower slash pairing is Archie/Horatio- we've paired them off in this fic.

Please enjoy, gentle readers. And please leave a nice review- it's LLM's birthday on Wednesday (is manipulative)

* * *

One fine day, HMS Indefatigable was skipping gaily over the waves, when suddenly, the lookout spotted something strange in the sky. He called to Lieutenant Hornblower, who climbed up to the main top (trying to ignore his fear of heights) and observed the strange object through his telescope. It appeared to be floating in the sky, or perhaps flying like a bird, although it did not have wings. It was sleek and white and rounded, and as he watched, it plummeted into the ocean with a tremendous splash. "We must go see what it is," Hornblower exclaimed, rushing off to tell Captain Pellew... 

Waiting outside the Captain's cabin, Horatio hastily flattened his untameable curls and straightened his uniform before knocking on the door. "Come!" came a deep, imperious voice. Horatio tried not to think of what he had been engaging in with Acting Lieutenant Kennedy the night before, and entered the room. He came smartly to attention. Captain Pellew, possibly one of the bravest, cleverest, interetingest, sexiest (alright, I'll stop...) captains ever to command a ship of His Majesty's Navy glared at his panting lieutenant. "Yes Mr Hornblower?"

"Sir, there is a matter on deck that urgently requires your attention!" Horatio reported, absently wondering where Pellew bought his face cream. That was some serious firming going on right there.

"Oh God, its not that Styles fellow hanging upside down from the rigging by his undies again is it?"

"Erm...No Sir. But I do think your presence is needed Sir."

Pellew sighed, put away his paperwork and stood. "Bloody Lieutenants, I can't leave in charge for five minutes without something going arse-up can I?" With that, he stomped off. Horatio followed, wondering what had put his captain in such a fine mood.

When they got on deck, Horatio noticed the aforementioned Acting-Lieutenant Kennedy (better known as Archie, The Crumpet, or "mmph don't stop that feels good mmm") leaning jauntily against the ship's side, looking through a telescope at the strange object that had crashed into the ocean. Horatio noticed how the sun glinted off his golden hair where it stuck out from under the hat that made him look like an adorable edible little elf (see Frogs and Lobsters), his jacket stretched across broad shoulders, his lovely tight trousers and cute boots, the way his hands caressed the hard length of the telescope... and realised that the Captain was waiting for him to respond to a question.

He blushed, tearing his gaze away from his friend's attractive figure, and stammered, "Ah, yes, sorry sir, I didn't hear your question."

Captain Pellew glanced toward the Acting Lieutenant whom Horatio had been staring at for the past several minutes. A fine enough sight, he admitted, but not any excuse for not listening to his captain. He gave Horatio a stern look, with eyebrows raised just enough to let him know he knew exactly where the young man's thoughts had been occupied. On the voyage home from Muzillac he had picked up a few tricks from Major Edrington in the eyebrow department.

"I said, Mr. Hornblower, what is that big white thing in the ocean?"

"Oh. Well, it looks a bit like a whale, sir. Except no one's ever heard of a white whale because Moby Dick hasn't been published yet."

"Moby what? I'm not even going to ask."

"Excuse me sir, but you just did."

"Right you are Mr. Hornblower. Brilliant and astute as always. But whales can't fall from the sky." (Captain Pellew had clearly never been to Magrathea).

Just then, Mr. Kennedy turned around to call out, "There's people on the strange object, sir. They seemed to come out of some sort of hatchway." He smiled glowingly at Horatio, who fidgeted uncomfortably.

"Well then," Pellew said, "we must launch boats to pick them up. Mr. Hornblower, please see to it."

"Yes, sir."

In a few minutes, the Indy's boats were pulling toward the white thing bobbing in the ocean. There were two men standing on top of it, one with curly ginger hair and garishly coloured clothing, the other with dark hair and wearing an old plaid dressing gown. Horatio thought there was something rather odd about them, but he didn't know what it was...

Archie moved to stand behind Horatio as the two men were helped into the boats and rowed back to the ship. "There's something not quite right about this, H'ratio," he murmured, his warm breath tickling the Welsh...Englishman's ear. Horatio shivered almost imperceptibly and made a conscious effort not to lean back into the heat of his friend's body. Captain Pellew harrumphed, causing Horatio to come to instinctive attention. The lieutenant cursed Archie- he could practically feel the smirk on his playful lover's face.

It wasn't long before the two strangers were unceremoniously hauled aboard- the crew of the Indefatigable wasn't going to stand for any of this weirdness. Whether they arrived in a large white whale or not, these people were men like any others, and that meant they might be Frogs, and the only good Frog is a dead Frog. So there.

Before any of the bemused officers (who were frankly confounded by the strange attire of their arrivals) could say anything, the smaller, ginger-haired man waved and grinned, which caused him to look like a carnivorous lunatic and caused them to flinch back instinctively. "Hello!" he said, cheerily. "We're having a spot of bother with our binary thrusters, bloody things, so I don't suppose..."

"I beg your pardon sir?" Captain Pellew had gone an interesting shade of puce. "What do you mean by your profane language and incoherent jabbering?"

The man frowned, his indecently large blue eyes narrowing. "I didn't think I was being that incoherent." He broke off as his taller companion tugged urgently on his sleeve and whispered something in his ear. "Don't be a twit Arthur, of course we aren't on Earth!"

Archie raised his eyebrows at Horatio, causing the senior lieutenant to twitch and wonder jealously if Lord Edrington had given him any private facial expression tutoring. Pellew ignored their little interaction, his face darkening as his 'guests' in turn persistently ignored him. It wasn't going to be long before he cracked. 5, 4, 3, 2, 1...

"WILL YOU GENTLEMEN PLEASE TELL ME WHAT YOUR PURPOSE IS HERE!"

Several birds flying overhead (who had up till now had been living carefree, happy, birdy lives) instantaneously suffered multiple seizures and died as the great roar battered through the air like an angry bouncer through a crowd of teenagers. Even though such a scenario does not exist and therefore such a comparison may not be drawn.

The ginger-haired man looked askance at the enraged captain, seemingly unaffected. His companion, whose name was obviously Arthur, now had his plaid-covered arms wrapped tightly around the shorter man's waist and he seemed to be whimpering into his associate's neck.

"Well really," the smaller figure exclaimed, his arms akimbo. "Was that entirely necessary? He's going to be insensible for the rest of the day now!"

* * *

Thanks for reading. 


	2. Gay as Maypoles

This is a Hitchhiker's Guide/Hornblower crossover, written by two slashers. The authors are **Les Lapins Mauvais** and **Demus**.

Thank you to reviewers: Spirals, Captain Oz, KentouKurige and LadyBush

You are all very kind.

* * *

Captain Pellew was eventually revived by the judicious application of seawater and rum, and came round, spluttering and cursing. 

"I will see those two men in my cabin immediately!" He shouted, so that even though the new arrivals were below decks getting a tour from Horatio and Archie, a messenger to convey the order was unnecessary. They soon stood before the Captain, trying not to cower before his wrath. Horatio and Archie were also there, because of a requirement in their film contracts that they had to be involved in every major scene. Captain Pellew demanded to know the strangers' names.

"I'm Ford Prefect," the shorter one said.

"Er, I'm Arthur Dent, um, sir," the other added, sounding far more uncertain. "Where are we?"

"On board His Majesty's Frigate Indefatigable," Horatio supplied, grateful as always to have got through the name without tripping over the syllables, especially with the distraction of Archie's elbow brushing against his as they stood at attention.

"So we're on Earth? The planet Earth?" Arthur asked eagerly, receiving very odd looks from everyone in the room besides Ford.

"No, we're on the moon," Archie quipped, only to be crushed by Pellew's roar of, "SILENCE!"

Arthur's face fell, but Pellew said, "Of course we're on the Earth, man, where else d'ye think we'd be?"

Arthur tried to draw Ford's attention to the fact that he had been right, but Ford was already talking.

"Well, do you think you could give us a hand with our binary thrusters? We just need a couple of spare parts, and the Improbability Drive's gone wonky. Trust Zaphod to steal a ship that doesn't even work properly! But if we can get to the Hastromil system, I have a friend around there who'll give us a free refit. Though what he'll think of a hitchhiker actually owning his own ship-- well, having stolen it from his semi-cousin, who stole it from--"

Ford became aware of the way everyone, including Arthur, was staring at him, and he trailed off into the deafening silence. The three naval officers started to back away slowly, while Arthur tried to reason with him.

"Ford, this is the Earth. They don't have that sort of technology, remember? They don't know what you're talking about. Actually, this doesn't even look like how I remembered it. Excuse me-" He turned to the young man with the blond hair, who seemed the least threatening of the strangers, "-but could you tell me what year it is?"

"1799," Archie replied, edging closer to Horatio for protection from the lunatics. Horatio heroically resisted the urge to hug him tightly.

"1799?" Ford and Arthur both echoed in horror.

"I'm stuck on this bloody zarking primitive planet for the third time! How zarking improbable is that!" Ford yelled.

"I won't be able to go back to my house or find any tea or anything!" Arthur yelled.

Captain Pellew stormed over to them. "Gentlemen," he growled threateningly, "if you do not tell me who you are and what you are doing here I will have you flogged, keel-hauled, and thrown off the ship."

"Well, you see, our spaceship crashed into the ocean here, and--" Ford started, but Arthur cut him off.

"We're both English," he said, recognising that everyone else on this ship seemed to be and that it would probably be good to point this out, "Ford here is from Guildford. And our, erm, ship- boat- thing isn't working properly. So we were wondering if you could possibly help us fix it, or, failing that, maybe let us go without hurting us too painfully?"

"Oh. At least one of you seems to be sane." Pellew said, assuming a slightly less imposing aspect. "We will take a look at your ship tomorrow, but for tonight, you will be our guests on board the Indefatigable." It was less of a request than an order, but they were grateful that the death threats had ended.

"Is there any tea on this, er, ship?" Arthur asked hesitantly.

"I'm afraid the rats ate it all a few months ago," Archie said sympathetically.

"We have lots of rum. And wine. And port. And whiskey." Horatio added, trying to be helpful. Ford looked interested, but noticed Arthur's downcast expression.

"It's okay, honey," he said, giving him a sympathetic hug, "I'm sure we'll find some tea for you somewhere."

They broke apart awkwardly when they realised they were being stared at again.

"Ford," Arthur whispered, "I don't think they did that back then."

Horatio just stared, aghast. These two strangers were so...free and open with their affection. Did they not fear the noose? Sodomy was a hanging offence! He glanced at Archie and burned with jealousy. It wasn't fair, it just wasn't fair!

Archie caught Horatio's glare and quirked a quick grin- he wondered if Horatio knew that he pouted when he was annoyed. The blond acting-lieutenant made a few speedy calculations in his head and turned slightly, so his back faced Horatio, before leaning forwards to address the Captain. "Sir, shall I take our guests to their berths?" He felt the burning glare transfer to his backside.

"Yes, Mr Kennedy. See that they are comfortable," Pellew replied absently, his scrutiny fixed suspiciously on the newcomers, who were furiously avoiding anyone's eyes. Which was difficult when half the ship was watching them, peering in through the windows of the Captain's cabin.

Archie straightened and ripped off a salute, making a few more calculations in his head. He smirked inwardly- it was a good plan, and Horatio was so cute when he was jealous and couldn't do anything about it. The acting-lieutenant reached out to touch Arthur's arm. The taller man flinched and pirouetted so they were face to face. Archie smiled reassuringly "This way, Mr Dent," he said, acting as the conscientious host, occasionally touching a hand to the taller man's arm as he guided him out the cabin.

Ford frowned as he followed. Being helpful was all very well, but the exceedingly attractive and charming blondie was getting a little too friendly. 'Mr Kennedy' was touching, smiling and chatting, and being ever so delightfully engaging. Grrrrr. The Betelgeusian, feeling that attacking him without direct provocation might be a little rash, settled for a frosty silence and unfriendly glare. He repressed the urge to hiss 'Mine!'

What didn't help matters was the awkward presence of the gangly dark-haired lieutenant, who was keeping a bit close for Ford's liking. The Betelgeusian noted the slight pout and tense fidgety air- it seemed he wasn't the only one who was jealous. Ford sighed as they made their way to whatever accommodation was being provided for he and Arthur- people might not have 'done this back then', but that didn't stop them all being as gay as Maypoles.


	3. Sex, Jam and 'I'm not in the mood'

This is a Hitchhiker's Guide/Hornblower crossover, written by two slashers. The authors are **Les Lapins Mauvais** and **Demus**.

Thanks to our reviewers: Captain Oz, Spirals and Ladybush. And also thanks to the 100-odd other people who are reading as well.

This chapter contains mention of sex, not graphic, but it's still there. Those with delicate constitutions may wish to cover their eyes before they read.

* * *

When they reached the wardroom, Archie pulled open the door of one of the adjoining cabins with a dramatic flourish, revealing a tiny cabin with just enough room for two hanging cots, and space in between to stow a sea chest. Ford looked at it sceptically. Perhaps it had been hoping for too much to expect a double bed, but still... he wondered how much weight the ropes supporting the cots could take. Arthur was still just glad that they weren't being 'keel-hauled', whatever that meant. He was aware of the pretty acting-lieutenant hovering by his side, but he didn't understand why Ford was gritting his teeth and growling. Maybe he wasn't happy with their room. 

Ford, meanwhile, had decided that the two officers would probably be able to answer his question about the ropes. "So," he said cheerfully, "Do you two share a cabin as well?"

Both men looked surprised and slightly discomforted by this question.

"Er, yes," Archie replied.

'Hah, made you uncomfortable, did I?' Ford thought maliciously, 'That'll teach you to stay away from my property.' Aloud, he continued, "Do you ever share a hammock?"

That got a reaction, most notably from the tall dark-haired one (What was his name, Hornblower? Ford snorted inwardly), who blushed crimson.

"What is the meaning of your question, sir?" he demanded with asperity. Archie looked ready to leap to his defence, while Arthur just looked confused. Ford rolled his eyes. These earthlings were even more insufferable than the ones he'd encountered before. Only ones he'd really liked had been the cavemen, who had promptly died out.

"Look," he said, "it's perfectly obvious that you two are sriataers, so I figured you would know if the hammocks could hold the weight of two?"

"We're what?" Horatio asked.

"Sriataers."

"Ford, they don't speak Betelgeusian." Arthur put in. So that what this was all about, then. Now that Ford mentioned it, it did seem rather obvious.

"Don't speak what?" Archie asked. He had thought the strangers seemed all right, if a little odd, but their behaviour was now becoming more and more insulting.

"You two are boyfriends," Ford tried to clarify, "soul mates. Lovers."

At the last word, Horatio and Archie started guiltily, and instinctively looked behind them in case anyone was listening.

"Lower your voice," Archie hissed.

"Why?" Ford hadn't had a drink lately, and was feeling belligerent. Anyway, the guy had tried to steal his Arthur.

"Because it's illegal, you fool." Archie was also losing his patience.

"WHAT?" Ford was genuinely shocked. Arthur resisted the urge to mutter, "Told you so."

"Article twenty-nine of the Articles of War," Horatio explained. "Punishable by death."

Ford suddenly remembered something. "Well, I notice you didn't deny it."

"Um..."

"Ford!" Arthur snapped, irritated by his partner's rude, but shrewd, accusations. "Stop aggravating the people who have the power to inflict painful tortures on us!" He was still thinking about what 'keel-hauling' could possibly involve.

His lover seemed to have discerned his thinking. Not surprising considering the amount of times they'd been captured by torture-obsessed, ingenious but psychotic enemies. The Betelgeusian attempted a reassuring grin that, what with his facial structure and genetic ancestry, caused Arthur to cower instinctively. "Don't worry, it probably isn't worse than the Vogon poetry. Though there was that time, do you remember, when we got ourselves accidentally locked in one poetry appreciation cage together and..."

"Yes, thank you!" Arthur interrupted, a little too loudly.

Archie and Horatio glanced at each other, their anger dissipating. Archie grinned- wherever the word 'sriataer' had come from, it was certainly accurate for these two, they argued like a married couple. He noticed that Ford was now wearing a grin like a lewd piece of clothing. It was slightly too wide and gave Archie the almost irresistible urge to cover his neck and flinch back. Being a strong, upright officer of His Majesty's Navy he repressed the urge, and also tried to convince himself that leaping into Horatio's arms was a bad idea.

The ginger-haired man, ignoring the two officers, stalked (that really was the only way to describe it) towards his companion and wrapped his arms around the taller figure from behind. "I don't recall you complaining at the time…" he purred.

Arthur blushed and gestured frantically towards Archie and Horatio, the latter of whom was puffing himself up in indignation, the former merely looking interested.

"Oh, they don't mind," Ford continued. "They'll be sassing each other's brains out by the time its dark- we could be like a warm-up."

Horatio gaped like a fish out of water- he had no idea what sassing was but the lascivious way Ford had said it gave him some disturbing images. And besides, they were…touching, in front of people! It was positively indecent! Archie just sniffed the air, his eyebrows furrowing as he caught an unfamiliar smell. He had no idea what it was, but it was making him feel very peculiar.

"Foo-rrrrd," Arthur gasped, trying to push off the hands that were determinedly working into his dressing gown. "Stop…projecting…_Oh God_…pheromones…at me, you-"

Ford pulled back with a disappointed sigh. "You're no fun when we're in company that'll kill us for having sex," he complained plaintively. He caught the shocked looks of both Horatio and Archie. "What? Its not like you've never done it before! Just last night if I'm any judge."

Archie wondered if it was possible for Horatio to actually explode from inexpressible emotion. He laid a hand on the taller man's arm and said, very steadily, "It is not something we discuss in public, Mr Prefect. Unlike you, we enjoy having our necks at the correct length attached to our bodies. Sodomy is against the law. Do you understand? We could lose our lives just for talking about it!"

The Betelgeusian shrugged. "I've never let anything like that stop me."

Arthur snorted his agreement as he tried to reign in his heightened breath and gather himself back together.

"Anyway, back to my original question- will these hammocks hold two?"

Archie considered trying to explain the laws of Britain to the crazy man again, but decided giving in would be a lot less painful all round. "Yes," he said, wearily, "but you have to be careful about not falling out."

"Oh good!" Ford grabbed Arthur's arm and started to pull him into their assigned cabin. "By the way," he stopped to ask, "Do you have any spare lube? I think I left ours on the spaceship."

"I beg your pardon?" Horatio finally found his voice to ask, in his most haughty manner.

"It's fine, really," Arthur said, completely mortified by Ford's tactlessness. He dragged the Betelgeusian through the doorway, taking note of Archie's parting advice,

"Don't be too noisy!"

Immediately after the door closed, there was a thump as of someone being shoved against it. Horatio silently boiled with fury, while Archie merely rolled his eyes and chuckled.

"Come, Horatio," he said gently, leading the dumbfounded man into their own cabin. Once inside, he tried to embrace him, only to have the dark-haired man fidget away nervously, as much as he was able to in the confined space. Archie huffed in irritation.

"You're just jealous, aren't you?" He accused.

"What? I didn't say anything about the way you were carrying on with Mr. Dent!"

Archie smirked. "Well, I was actually referring to your envy of their open intimacy, but…"

Horatio turned away and fidgeted with the blanket on his cot. He hated being teased more than anything else in the entire world. Archie took pity on him and rested a hand on his back, in a completely Platonic way that Horatio would hopefully be able to tolerate. Horatio relaxed slightly into the touch, eventually allowing Archie to wrap his arms around him from behind, inadvertently echoing Ford and Arthur's earlier position.

"I don't know where they came from, Horatio, but wherever it was, there would certainly seem to be different rules."

"To put it mildly. They are so completely alien—Mr. Prefect, especially—and what sort of name is that, anyway? I don't know what to make of them at all."

"So that's what annoys you then, the fact that there's something out there that you don't know about?"

"Archie," Horatio sighed, exasperated. Archie mentally slapped himself for not being able to stop making fun of Horatio, and dropped a kiss on the back of his neck as an apology.

"Archie." Warningly, this time. Archie wondered how many different ways he could get Horatio to say his name. He'd heard a few interesting intonations in the past, when the man wasn't being so damned skittish.

"It's all right now, Horatio. No one's going to see us."

"But they _know_."

Ah, so that was the problem.

"I sincerely doubt they're going to tell anyone. They're in the same situation themselves, and make no effort to hide it."

"Still, it's—it's obscene."

"Of course it isn't, don't be stupid." Archie wondered vaguely if he should be more considerate of Horatio's feelings.

"Oh, well in that case it's all right then," came the scathingly sarcastic reply. Apparently the voice of my conscience was right, Archie thought. Still, he held Horatio close and rubbed his chest soothingly. He decided to try another tactic.

"Look, I apologise for shamelessly flirting with Mr. Dent. It was unkind of me and I only did it to make you jealous and please will you turn around and kiss me now?"

Ah, so that was _really_ the problem. Horatio twisted around and wrapped his arms around Archie, murmuring contritely,

"I apologise too, Archie. It was petty of me to be so—" He was cut off by Archie's mouth pressing against his, and he gave up trying to speak and returned the kiss. It quickly deepened, and he was tugging at Archie's jacket, trying to get at the lovely body that had been tormenting him all day, when the door opened unexpectedly and Ford Prefect popped his head in.

"Scuse me fellers, you wouldn't happen to have any jam would you?" Ford seemed unperturbed by the lip-locking that was going on. Horatio hastily shoved Archie off him and tried to straighten his clothes, turning to glare at Ford, his kiss-bruised lips parting in order to start a tirade against the intruder.

The Betelgeusian sniffed in sharply and grinned. "Oh, sorry guys, I didn't think you'd be at each other so fast." He gave them a thumb's up. "Have fun!" With that, he scampered off.

Horatio stared at the doorway, his raging bellow dying in his throat. A feeling of intense shame and embarrassment washed over him and he slumped where he stood, hanging his head. From his sprawled position on the floor, Archie groaned. He liked the frisson of danger that accompanied such close encounters, but he knew it was going to take ages to get Horatio back in the mood now.

* * *

Ford's manic grin was still in place when he entered his and Arthur's cabin. "You'll never guess what I've just seen!" he exclaimed, bouncily. 

Arthur raised an eyebrow.

"That pretty little charmer who had his baby-blues on you was assaulting the stiff!"

The eyebrow raised even further and Arthur tilted his head in question.

Ford sighed exasperatedly. "I mean the taller bloke with the curly hair! And unless you humans developed some other form of communication involving tongues in 1799, I'd be very surprised to discover that they weren't going at it!"

The human shrugged non-committally.

"Well of course it's none of my business, why do you think I'm so interested? This could be a lot of fun you know…"

There was a snort from Arthur.

"Of course it will! We'll be subtle. I can do subtle. Oh, they don't have any jam by the way, I did check. Maybe we should ask tomorrow when they aren't so…busy."

Arthur rolled his eyes at Ford. The Betelgeusian's grin widened and he leaned down to his lover, patting the ropes that bound Arthur's hands securely to the hammock. "I'd kiss you," he murmured, his hot breath brushing the human's ear and causing him to shudder, "but it might be difficult with the gag and everything."

The human whined in the back of his throat, cleverly twisting so he could hook his legs around Ford's waist. Ford took this as a command and started to plant kisses along Arthur's jawline. "It's your own fault you know," he muttered as Arthur writhed under the slow, sensuous caresses. "If you can't keep quiet during sex, I have to take extreme measures. That Archie frood said we couldn't be noisy."

Arthur's movements stilled. As Ford looked up to see what was wrong, he saw the expression on his lover's face clearly saying 'Oh, so he's a frood now is he?'

"Don't be daft, sriataer! You can't be jealous about that!"

Widened eyes from the human explained that if Ford could be jealous about insignificant touches, then Arthur could be jealous about unnecessary branding of people as froods. Arthur then closed his eyes tightly, signalling that he was going to sulk.

Ford smiled indulgently and went back to what he had been doing, regardless of his partner's feelings on the matter. "You can't sulk forever," he purred, his experienced hands working open Arthur's dressing gown and pyjamas and travelling very familiar paths across his lover's body. "Especially not when I do _this_…"

Arthur's eyes snapped open and his tension vanished, leaving him a sexually frustrated puddle in Ford's capable and extremely obliging hands. The Betelgeusian clambered awkwardly onto the hammock. He liked it when they discussed their issues as a couple.


	4. FIYAH!

This is a Hitchhiker's Guide/Hornblower crossover, written by two slashers. The authors are **Les Lapins Mauvais** and **Demus**.

Thank you, lovely reviewers: Captain Oz (yes, I do have an obsession, that Les Lapins Mauvais let me to indulge in my part of the last chapter. I like to think they used strawberry or apricot), LadyBush and KentouKurige.

* * *

Some time later, the two visitors were lounging in the wardroom drinking. Ford had found the alcohol supply, and he was happy again. Arthur had managed to convince him that it wouldn't be a good idea to explore the ship without their guides, and their two guides were currently in their cabin, being very very quiet. Ford looked at his watch, smirking. Just then, the cabin door opened and Mr. Hornblower and Mr. Kennedy emerged, looking a little tousled. Horatio was trying to smooth his hair down again, with little success, and Archie was buttoning his jacket. They stopped short at the sight of the two men sitting at the table. Horatio looked as if he would like nothing better than to flee, but Archie quickly recovered his poise. 

"Hello, gentlemen," he said briskly.

Arthur wondered what he could say that wouldn't imply that he knew they had just been shagging, that wouldn't offend them and would make them realise what a nice, interesting person he was. Although they were his fellow Earthmen, they could just as easily have been from a different planet, for all that he could relate to them.

"Have a nice sass?" Ford asked brightly. He had just decided that it would make a good noun. _That wasn't the most encouraging reception for my brilliant innovation_, he thought, noting Archie and Horatio's blank looks.

"Well," Horatio said to Arthur, clearly determined to ignore Ford completely, "would you like to complete your tour of the ship? We were interrupted by the captain's summons, and then…"

_That was clever, wasn't it? _He thought to himself scornfully. His fears were confirmed a moment later when Ford continued,

"And then we had a sweet little heart-to-heart discussion of our respective relationships and went off to—"

"Mr. Prefect!" Archie interrupted, "You are not to speak of such matters aloud!"

Horatio reflected that while Archie could seem imprudent when they were alone together, he at least had no illusions about the threat that their guests presented.

Having reached something of an impasse, embroiled in the same argument as before, it was quite a relief to all concerned when there was a shout from above decks.

"Sail ho! Four points off the larboard bow! Looks like a Frog, sir!"

"Beat to quarters!" They heard Mr. Bracegirdle order, followed immediately by the roll of drums and the pounding of feet as the men hurried to their battle stations. Horatio turned to Ford and Arthur, no longer unsure about what to say to them.

"Mr. Dent, Mr. Prefect, we are going into battle. I would advise you to stay in your quarters. Excuse me." And he ran out of the room and up to the quarterdeck.

Archie lingered a moment longer, because Ford started to protest,

"Can't we watch? What about the _Heart of Gold_? We might be of some assistance. Why are you fighting small green amphibians, anyway?"

"Very well, you may join us on deck," Archie conceded. "However, Captain Pellew may order you below, in which case you will have to comply."

Ford and Arthur followed him up on deck, where the gun crews were loading their guns, Pellew was bellowing orders, and the other officers were watching the approaching French ship through their telescopes.

"Looks like a party," Ford said.

"Er…" Arthur wasn't too sure.

"Mr Hornblower! Precisely why are our guests above deck?" shouted one of the senior lieutenants.

"They thought they might be of some use, sir!" Archie put in as he rallied his division.

Horatio, who was hurriedly giving orders to his own men, quickly showed his agreement. The senior lieutenant left the matter at that, turning back to the approaching French ship. "She's carrying 74 guns, sir!" Bracegirdle reported to the captain. Pellew's mouth thinned. His own beloved _Indefatigable_, despite being considered heavily armed for a frigate, carried only 44 guns. His mind raced as he continued to appraise the situation. Against that firepower, their chances of winning were very low.

The first lieutenant looked to him for orders. "Should we attempt to out-run her, sir?" Bracegirdle asked.

Pellew surveyed his men, who were still doggedly readying for battle. His eyes swept briefly over the two strangers, the shorter of whom looked extremely interested in what was going on. The wild-haired figure was pointing at the strange white craft that was still floating in the water near them, and he seemed to be explaining something to his bemused companion.

"No, Mr Bracegirdle, we will not run," the captain decided. "They will expect us to turn tail, but we shall meet them head on, giving us the advantage of surprise. Give them the illusion that we are unable to make sail, but are attempting to do so. That will make them overconfident and unsuspecting."

The first lieutenant saluted and turned to yell orders at the crew, directing several men aloft to maintain the deception of problems with the sails. Only a truly excellent company could portray sloppy seamanship whilst simultaneously preparing for action. The _Indefatigable_ had such a crew.

Pellew glanced back at the strangers, who had collared Lieutenant Hornblower and were speaking quickly to the young man. His brow furrowed. He could not afford for his officers to be distracted at this time. The captain checked the position of the French ship- she was a big vessel, but her advance was deceptively swift.

"Mr Hornblower! What is the meaning of this dalliance!" he bellowed, angrily.

"With respect sir, Mr Prefect has come up with a way of defeating the enemy- all he requires is a few good men and access to his vessel."

Captain Pellew considered for a moment. Hornblower's schemes, and those that he participated in, generally turned out to be successful. His own plan of action was a risky one, and he was interested in hearing this new plan.

"Very well. Mr. Hornblower, you will supervise the action. Take whoever you need from your division, and be quick about it."

"Yes, sir," Hornblower replied, outlining the plan to his captain, and explaining what the _Indefatigable_'s role would have to be. Then he called over Matthews, Styles, and Oldroyd, commonly known to their fellow sailors as 'The Guys Who Get To Have All The Cool Adventures'. They, along with Horatio, Ford, Arthur, and Archie, who had left one of the midshipmen in command of his division and come along for the fun, quickly lowered the jollyboat and began rowing towards the Heart of Gold, still floating some distance off. As they did so, the French ship fired a warning shot towards the Indefatigable, which whistled through the air above their heads and fell into the water with a splash.

"They're shooting at us!" Arthur exclaimed in consternation.

"What the hell do you expect?" Horatio replied irritably, "We're at war!"

Arthur thought back to his childhood history lessons, and vaguely remembered that the Napoleonic Wars were going on around 1799.

"Is this something to do with Napoleon Bonaparte?" he asked.

"Yes," Archie replied, "bloody tyrant. But there isn't time to go into all of that now."

Arthur thought that if he was about to die then it might be nice to know some of the background information, just to give him a sense of perspective and so forth. Ford was unconcerned, having no interest whatsoever in human history (he didn't think that a civilisation started by telephone sanitisers and hairdressers had much of a chance at being at all interesting) and being slightly more accustomed than Arthur was to being shot at by random life forms.

They fetched up against the side of the spaceship, and Horatio looked back to see that the Indy was caught aback, her sails luffing, the French ship bearing down on her ominously. This was according to plan, but he anxiously hoped that the Frogs didn't inflict too much damage on her before they could put their part of the scheme into action.

Ford braced his hand against the Heart of Gold's side and kicked the entrance hatch.

"Hey Eddie!" he bellowed, "let us in, will you?"

Horatio and Archie exchanged a look of surprise. Neither of their guests had mentioned anything about there being others on their strange vessel. The hatchway swung open, and they managed to climb through it, tying the jollyboat securely to a projecting knob.

As they entered the spaceship, the 18th century men looked around in total astonishment. However, Hornblower sternly reminded himself that they had a task to perform, and he must stay focused.

"Mr. Prefect," he said, "What do we need to do?" He wasn't about to admit it, but most of the words that Ford had used while explaining the plan had been completely incomprehensible to him. Just then, he was interrupted by a disembodied voice, which sounded strangely mechanical and inhuman, and had an irritating accent.

"Hi there fellas!" it said loudly, "Anything I can do for you?"

"Who is that?" Archie asked, searching for the source of the voice.

"That's Eddie," Arthur told him, "The shipboard computer. Although you wouldn't know what that is…" He trailed off, unsure of how to explain the concept.

"Don't suppose you've figured out how to get us flying again?" Ford asked, clenching his jaw involuntarily as he always did when dealing with the computer.

"As a matter of fact, I think all you'd need to do would be to manually transfer the Improbability Drive into my backup operating system, and I'd be able to manage for a little while."

"Eddie, I think that is the single most helpful thing you've ever said," Ford exclaimed, "I could kiss you."

Arthur bristled, the sailors looked shocked, and then came the strange sound of a computer blushing, which is completely impossible to describe in writing, but could be described in mathspeak.


	5. Surrender Monkeys

This is a Hitchhiker's Guide/Hornblower crossover, written by two slashers. The authors are **Les Lapins Mauvais** and **Demus**.

Thank you, kind people who read and reviewed: Captain Oz, Oneiriad and Spirals

LLM and I had enormous fun writing this, we finished it before she went away, and I'm glad, on both of our behalves, that you've liked it. Or if you've loathed it, you've been kind enough not to say, so cheers.

* * *

Ford led the way to the control room, where the Infinite Improbability Drive was actually located. Under Ford's supervision, Matthews, Styles, and Oldroyd lifted it together out of its resting place in the center of one complex tangle of machinery and into another, identical, one nearby. 

"How's that?" Ford asked Eddie, after adjusting the wiring.

"That just dandy," Eddie replied, "now where do you want to go?"

Hornblower was bored with listening to Ford give orders, and even though he felt a little silly addressing someone he couldn't see, he said crisply, "We need to get into a position to frighten away the French warship. The mere sight of this strange craft ought to do it, but… you do have guns, don't you?" He asked Ford. He was doubtful, having seen no portholes, and they'd only be able to operate one cannon between them anyway, so he was relying heavily on the virtue of surprise.

"Yeah," Ford said, "But you'd have to be pretty bloodthirsty to use them. A single shot from one of the Megablasters would probably blow that wooden sailboat straight out of the water."

"I'm taking off, then," Eddie announced, "You might want to go up to the bridge so you can direct me."

Ford led the way again, and flopped comfortably into one of the chairs there. Arthur sat down next to him. Horatio and Archie explored the control panels, and Horatio had to slap Archie's hands away from pressing all the blinking shiny buttons. The foremast hands stood respectfully at the side of the room, waiting for orders.

The _Heart of Gold_ rose slowly into the air, sending up a great spray of water as the powerful propellers thrust against the sea.

* * *

Le Captaine Michel Perruque of the man-of-war _La Confiture_ smirked confidently as his ship bore down on the flagging British frigate. Poor, stupid, English fools. They were so proud of their so-called unstoppable navy, and here he would crush them like the beetles they were. He rested his hand on his rotund belly, brushing a speck of dust off his immaculate uniform. He took little notice of the large white object floating nearby the other ship- his greedy eyes were fixed on his prize. As they drew ever closer, he became aware of a low throbbing humming sound, like that of a hundred bees singing hymns very quietly in a deserted country church. 

The odd noise suddenly began to grow in pitch and amplitude and the captain was forced to cover his ears as it became a whining roar. The French crew stopped their work, gaping in open astonishment as the white shape slowly started to rise out of the water and turn. The bulbous head swung round to face them and the white demon growled menacingly. The fat little Perruque removed his hat and clutched it to his chest, falling to his knees in terror.

"Oh Dieu Clément!" he prayed, desperately, his jowls wobbling frantically in his panic. "Mon Dieu, c'est un diable! Un diable!"

Seeming to hear his prayer, the 'devil' softened its roar to a whispering hiss and began to advance on them, hovering in the air like an evil ghost. As one man, the French crew began to scream and panic, some firing reckless shots at the flying monster, some just running to the sides to fling themselves into the sea. Le Captaine Perruque looked at his ship as order collapsed around him, then at the English frigate. No longer a picture of chaos and disorder, the proud frigate, her sails full, was heading towards them in the wake of the demon.

'They summoned it,' he thought, staring at the hissing beast. 'The English devils summoned it!' He stood and began shouting orders, firm commanding orders that has as much effect on his men as a mackerel has when used as a battering ram. In fact, Perruque was completely ignored by everyone except the ship's cat. The ship's cat (whose name was Henri) leapt from his precarious position on one of the railing to land on the captain's head.

This did not help matters.

* * *

From the deck of the _Indefatigable_ Captain Pellew couldn't repress a satisfied smile as the French crew abandoned their ship and their captain, screaming for mercy as they hit the water. The British crew, having seen the _Heart of Gold_ land earlier that day, were quite happy to jeer and taunt the Frogs as they swam desperately for the relative safety of the English vessel. Pellew saw the French captain, alone on the deck of _La Confiture_, turn and fix a death glare on him from underneath his ship's cat. Then he raised his hands in the universal gesture of surrender. 

The _Indy_'s crew cheered. They had done the impossible, for England and for their king.

Well technically, they hadn't, but any excuse to get the rum stores opened was a welcome one.

* * *

On board the _Heart of Gold_, Archie was having a hard time resisting the urge to grab Horatio into a bear hug. Matthews, Styles and Oldroyd had no such qualms and were leaping around and cheering like drunken monkeys. Ford simply sat and grinned, his arm sneaking around Arthur, who didn't seem to mind. The dressing-gowned human was just glad he wasn't being either shot at by strangers from his home's history or passionately snogged in front of 18th century prudes. Horatio was feeling a little bit nauseous due to the sight of themselves hovering above the water from the main viewscreens. He had a distinct feeling that men were not made to fly, and that he in particular would be glad of chance to get his feet back on some decent wooden boards.

* * *

Having touched down the spaceship back on the calm waters and been rowed back to the _Indefatigable_, Ford and Arthur were a little surprised by the exceedingly warm welcome they got from the crew. Archie (who had Horatio clinging to his arm like an insecure baby limpet that's lost its mum) acknowledged the cheers and salutes the born ease of a gentleman but Matthews, Styles and Oldroyd were quick to regale their mates wit the story of their 'Adventure In The Flying White Thing Where For Once Mr Hornblower Didn't Save The Day'. 

Captain Pellew waited patiently as they fought their way through the excited crew and stood gravely as the shouting died down. "Men," he stated, his tones ringing out over the sea. "We owe a deep debt of gratitude to these gentlemen before you. Without their ingenuity and quick-thinking, along with their otherworldy machine, we may not have survived this battle. On behalf of His Majesty the King and the British Empire, I salute you!"

There was a great roaring _Hurrah!_ from the _Indy_'s men. Arthur looked a bit unnerved, but Ford ginned his trademark manic grin and winked at the captain. "No problem mate. All in a day's work. Now are you sure you don't have any jam on this ship?"

THE END


End file.
